Dream Trilogy by Nora Roberts

moment’s thought. “I just have to weed it out from my poor judgment, questionable taste, and foolish career. Then again, I have to remember that your judgment is always good, your taste perfect, and your career brilliant.”
    “That’s true.” There was a flush on Margo’s cheeks now and fire in her eyes. Relieved, Kate grinned. “You look beautiful when you’re angry.”
    “Oh, shut up.” Margo marched to the terrace doors, wrenched them open, and strode out onto the wide stone balcony with its mini garden of impatiens and violas.
    The weather was clear and fine, one of those unspeakably beautiful days drenched with gilded sunlight, cupped by blue skies, perfumed with flowers. The Templeton estate, Big Sur, stretched out, tumbling gardens and tidy stone walls, graceful ornamental bushes and stately old trees. The pretty stucco stables that were no longer used resembled a tidy cottage off to the south. She could just catch a glint that was the water of the pool, and the fanciful white gazebo beyond it, decked with pretty four-o’clocks.
    She’d done some dreaming in that flower-drenched gazebo, she remembered. Imagining herself a fine lady waiting for a devoted and dashing lover.
    “Why did I ever want to leave here?”
    “I don’t know.” Kate came up behind her, draped an arm over Margo’s shoulder. In heels she was still an inch shy of Margo’s stacked five ten, but she drew Margo against her and supported her.
    “I wanted to be someone. Someone dazzling. I wanted to meet dazzling people, be a part of their world. Me, the housekeeper’s daughter, flying off to Rome, sunning on the Riviera, decorating the slopes at Saint Moritz.”
    “You’ve done all those things.”
    “And more. Why wasn’t it ever enough for me, Kate? Why was there always this part of me that wanted one more thing? Just one more thing I could never get a grip on. I could never figure out what it was. Now that I may have lost all the others, I still haven’t figured it out.”
    “You’ve got time,” Kate said quietly. “Remember Seraphina?”
    Margo’s lips curved a little as she thought of how she had stood on Seraphina’s cliff the night before. And of all the lazy days when she and Kate and Laura had talked about the young Spanish girl, the conclusions they’d come to.
    “She didn’t wait and see.” Margo leaned her head against Kate’s. “She didn’t stop and see what the rest of her life had to offer.”
    “Here’s your chance to wait and see.”
    “Well.” Margo blew out a breath. “As fascinating as that sounds, I might not be able to wait for some of it. I think I may be in some stormy financial waters.” She drew back and tried to put on a sunny smile. “I could use your professional help. I figure a woman with an M.B.A. from Harvard can decipher my poorly kept and disorganized books. Want to take a shot?”
    Kate leaned back against the rail. The smile didn’t fool her for a minute. And she knew if Margo was worried about something as casual as money, it was a desperate time.
    “I’ve got the rest of the day. Get some clothes on, and we’ll get started.”
     
    Margo knew it was bad. She’d expected it to be bad. But from the way Kate was grumbling and hissing, she understood it was going to be a hell of a lot worse.
    After the first hour, she stayed out of Kate’s way. It did no good to hang over her shoulder and be snapped at, so sheoccupied herself by unpacking, carefully hanging dresses that had been carelessly packed into the rosewood armoire, meticulously folding sweaters into the scented drawer of the mirrored bureau.
    She answered Kate’s occasional questions and tolerated the more than occasional abuse. Desperate gratitude flooded through her when Laura opened the door.
    “Sorry I was gone so long. I couldn’t—”
    “Quiet. I’m trying to perform miracles here.”
    Margo jerked a thumb at the terrace. “She’s working on my books,” Margo explained when they were outside.